The ministers completed their formal obeisance and withdrew. Hua Zhi lowered her gaze and stepped forward, kneeling before the Emperor’s bed.

The Emperor’s complexion was ashen, his entire body leaning against Lai Fu. Though Lai Fu was still ill himself, in this moment he stood firm as a boulder, bearing the Emperor’s weight without the slightest movement.

“I have never liked you, and that remains true even now. It was you who caused my prized steed to drift from me. Yet in just over a year, you have given Little Six such courage and resolve. I acknowledge that you have not tarnished the Hua Family’s reputation.”

Hua Zhi did not bother arguing with a man on the verge of death. She simply lowered her head and listened, quietly reasoning it out in her heart — love and familial affection have never been a matter of choosing one over the other. They can coexist. Anyone who forces another into such a choice simply does not love enough.

The Empress Dowager and Little Six, who had been holding their breath with worry, both exhaled in relief at these words. Even if there had been much that was painful before, reconciliation at the end was the best possible outcome.

But before they could fully breathe easy, they heard the Emperor continue: “I know that everything you have done has been to bring the Hua Family back. And that wish, Little Six will certainly fulfill for you. However, should I leave behind an imperial edict, the Hua Family will never be permitted to return for the rest of their lives. You will live in comfort here in the capital, while they can only endure hardship at the frontier.”

The Empress Dowager opened her mouth to speak, and Little Six moved to step forward. The Emperor raised his hand slightly, his gaze settling on Hua Zhi.

Hua Zhi sighed inwardly. She was not the least bit surprised. Since he had never liked her, how could he possibly grant her a happy ending at the last? Even in death, the Emperor’s dislike could still make her life uncomfortable.

She raised her head and asked, “What does Your Majesty wish for this humble daughter to do?”

A faint smile crossed the Emperor’s face. Speaking with a sharp-minded person was always satisfying — it saved him what little energy he had left. “Little Six is only twelve. I want you to wait until after his wedding, and until he has firmly secured the throne, before you may marry.”

“Your Majesty should know that the man this humble daughter is to marry is Yanxi, who is already twenty-six — your own nephew.”

“I am aware.”

“This humble daughter dares to ask — aside from regarding him as the head of the Seven Lodges and a useful minister, have you ever felt even a shred of familial affection for him?”

The Emperor’s eyes closed slightly. “Will you agree or not?”

“This humble daughter agrees.” Hua Zhi did not hesitate for a single moment. “Little Six came to my side with nothing, drenched in blood. I taught him principles, let him understand the lives of common people, brought him to see the vast world beyond the palace walls. To say something presumptuous — he and my younger brother are not so different to me. I would naturally protect him and help him to the best of my ability. These are things I would do without any demand from you.”

The Emperor said nothing more. His hand gave an almost imperceptible, faint wave.

Hua Zhi kowtowed, cast a glance at Little Six, then silently withdrew.

Only the Emperor, the Empress Dowager, Little Six, and the two absolutely loyal servants — Lai Fu and Yuxiang — remained in the great hall.

The Emperor labored to open his eyes halfway and looked at Little Six — this child to whom he had given so little care or guidance. Hua Zhi had been right. Little Six’s growth had little to do with him as a father. It was Hua Zhi who had taught him.

“Do you resent your imperial father?”

Little Six shook his head. “Mother Consort said that whoever you favor, whoever you cherish, whoever you treat better — those are all your rights. If we demanded your affection it would be us overstepping. I simply did not receive your favor. What is there to resent?”

The Emperor’s expression grew dazed for a moment, and in a trance he seemed to see the image of the Noble Consort Zhen speaking these very words to Little Six. Yes — she truly had no ambition, no desires, no demands. Unlike Yuepin…

The Emperor’s brow furrowed with disgust. He looked at his son. “After I am gone, the matter of Hua Zhi must not be changed. No matter how capable she is, she is still a woman. If she marries early and has her own children, she will not be able to give you her whole heart. So she must devote herself fully to helping you secure the throne before she may have her freedom. Promise me this.”

“…Yes. Your son obeys.”

The Emperor, who had partially raised himself, settled back down again. He gazed into the emptiness and murmured: “The first wrong move I made in my life was exiling the Hua Family. The second was driving Yanxi away from me. Little Six — I have never truly taught you anything. This is my final reminder to you: remember the bonds of youth. Even when you are my age, do not allow yourself to grow suspicious of Hua Zhi and Yanxi. Yanxi scarred his own face just to demonstrate his loyalty to me. What he has done all these years — go through those archives and you will know. As for Hua Zhi — her family is her weakness. As long as even one member of the Hua Family remains alive in Daqing, she will serve you faithfully. Use these two people well, and your throne will already be more than half secured.”

His voice faded to a whisper. Little Six choked back a sob and affirmed his understanding. This was his father — no matter how distant their bond, no matter how rarely they met in a year, he was still his father. When this man was gone too, he would have neither mother nor father left.

Thinking this, Little Six was suddenly overwhelmed with grief. He did not want to become someone who calculated against the people around him, the way his imperial father had. He hoped he could still be with his Teacher the way they used to be. He hoped Yanxi would still be a man of few words who nevertheless stood by his side. He hoped Bailin would still be willing to share a bed with him, the two of them competing with each other in their studies, each afraid of falling behind the other.

He hoped none of this would change — and yet he knew all of it would.

Because he was no longer Little Six anymore. From today onward, he would not be.

Little Six prostrated himself on the ground, and found with a grief-stricken heart that he dreaded losing what he already had far more than he desired what he was about to gain. The tender warmth woven through all those moments — he never wanted to lose it for as long as he lived.

“Imperial Mother.”

The Empress Dowager stepped forward and sat on the edge of the soft couch, grasping her son’s hand, her voice hoarse. “Do not worry. I am here.”

“Imperial Mother, your son is unfilial. Even at the very end, I have caused you grief and hardship.”

“You…” The Empress Dowager turned her face away, tears trailing down from the corners of her eyes.

The Emperor’s vision grew hazy. Knowing that his end had come, he said with a touch of regret: “What a pity that I could not see Yanxi one last time. I have wronged him. Imperial Mother — please convey a message to him on your son’s behalf. Ask him to endure for three more years. In three years, Little Six will be old enough to marry. After that, let him go wherever the sky is wide and the sea is open. Half of everything in my private treasury shall go to him. Little Six — you must promise me this.”

“Yes. Your son will remember.”

“Good… good…” The Emperor forced his eyes open. It was as though he could see again that child from long ago — a round-faced, spirited boy clutching his leg and calling out “Royal Father” in a bright, clear voice. Such closeness — something he had never felt before. And even after the boy had realized he’d called the wrong person, he had been bold enough to reach out and demand to be held. That was the first time he had ever held a child in his arms — and it had been his own nephew.

How could there be no feeling between them? From the time that little one had crawled up onto his knee, they had shared over twenty years of uncle and nephew. It was he who had hurt Yanxi. If only, when Yanxi had first revealed his feelings for Hua Zhi, he had simply given his blessing — would Yanxi have continued to trust him? If only he had never listened to Yuepin’s instigation, never summoned Hua Zhi to the palace on New Year’s Eve — would everything have been different?

What a pity. One wrong step, and every step after was wrong.

As all awareness faded from him, the Emperor thought: I can no longer do anything else for you. So let me trade your three years for a lifetime of freedom. Stay far away from all this strife and conflict. Go and live the life you most wish to live with the person you love. Your uncle wishes you peace and joy — a home full of children and grandchildren…